Home
by Bitch Slap Love
Summary: Stan doesn’t understand why Kyle is overreacting. Style


Disclaimer: Do not own them.  
Title: Home  
Summary: Stan doesn't understand why Kyle is overreacting.  
Warnings: Slash Cussing PWP (Kinda)OOC Drug References  
Couple: Style  
Written By: Shino  
Inspired By: The song 'Home' by Three Days Grace and Ben Barrett's story 'Hurt'  
Comments: Okay, so if you want MASSIVE giggles read 'The Irish had it Right' by Cszemis and BroflovskiFan. Dear God. I love them. X3  
Note: This story will, to some degree, seem childish, but, that is cause it is in Stan's POV, and Stan, subsequently, has a childish frame of mind. Also, I'm taking a cliché route (surprise, surprise, I NEVER do THAT) So, if yew don't like cliché things. TURN BAAACCCCK. D

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Home  
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_I'll be coming home  
__Just to be alone  
__Cause I know you're not there  
__And I know that you don't care  
__I can hardly wait to leave this place_

"Stanly!" Oh God, here he goes again. He's ganna piss and moan for the next HOUR about how I need to get a job, and stop doing the things I do, and how he'll leave me if I don't clean up my act.

Pft, but he won't.

I've only heard this a million times.

It's gotten old.

I just wish he'd SHUT UP.

My lips pull into a wide grin to see that he _is_ shutting up. Big fat tears roll down his cheeks as I squeeze his throat. His fingers claw at my hand, trying to pry them off.

But soon his struggling stops, his lips are turning blue and he sags against me, only his eyes are pleading now, and they're fading fast.

Huh, this isn't fun anymore.

So, I walk away, not caring that he slumps to the floor and doesn't move, the need for a hit is KILLing me.

_No matter how hard I try  
__You're never satisfied  
__This is not a home  
__I think I'm better off alone  
__You always disappear  
__Even when you're here  
__This is not my home  
__I think I'm better off alone  
__Home, home, this house is not a  
__Home, home, this house is not a home_

He's clutching my hand, not letting it go for it's target.

"Stop doing this!" He's whining, that annoying high-pitched squeal that I used to find so cute.

I look up at him and he looks frightened. "Puh- please, you're hurting yourself and. . And me, Stan." I continue staring and he starts shaking. "This hurts me."

"I'm ganna hurt you if you don't let go of me right now."

Is that my voice? When did it get so deep and dark and drug-laced?

It's sexy.

His breathing becomes erratic, and his hands flex.

"Stanly. . . . Please?"

Ugh, again with the WHINING.

If he didn't have a nice ass I'd throw him out on the street.

_By the time you come home  
__I'm already stoned  
__You turn off the TV  
__And you scream at me  
__I can hardly wait  
__Till you get off my case_

Holy, shit.

That guy sure does some fucked up things.

I tilt my head to the side and blink and squint and try to make since of the thing before me.

Hadn't I been watching 'Finding Nemo' or some shit?

Why does everything look like Jackie Chan?

A faint noise reaches my ears and the next thing I know, Jackie Chan is gone.

"Mother fucker!"

Looking up I find Jackie Chan standing a scant few inches away, glaring hatefully.

"Whoa."

"I can't BELIEVE you! AUGH! You SONAVAH!"

Jackie's hands flew in the air and he lunges for me.

As he straddles my waist and hits my chest in a girly fashion, his hair changes colour.

It turns red.

Jackie Chan is amazing.

_No matter how hard I try  
__You're never satisfied  
__This is not a home  
__I think I'm better off alone  
__You always disappear  
__Even when you're here  
__This is not my home  
__I think I'm better off alone  
__Home, home, this house is not a  
__Home, home, this house is not a_

I walk into the living room, searching for my stash.

Passing by the couch, I barely notice the man sitting there so quietly.

Turning slowly, leaning back and waving a hand at it, I deem that he really is there.

My mouth opens and I start to ask what's up when I realize I don't know his name.

Huh, it starts with an 'S' right?

Wait, no that's me.

What is his name?

And why is he so quiet?

_Home, home, this house is not a  
__Home, home, this house is not a home_

A hand tugs at my sleeve.

"Stan, I'll leaving."

I look up.

Hey, it's that one guy! Whats-his-name.

He's always here at my house for some reason.

"Did you hear me? God, you never listen to me. What happened to you? You used to be so caring."

I tip my head back, he does seem familiar, but why

Finally, I decided to ask him. "Who are you?"

At that, he turns away, eyes wet.

Why the fuck is he crying?

Shit, where's my shit?

_I'm better off alone_

The house is so empty for some reason.

And I've been really run down too.

I don't even have the energy to go get a beer.

For some reason, I think I've never had that problem before.

Like someone used to get it for me.

Huh.

Kyle.

Where's Kyle?

_No matter how hard I try  
__You're never satisfied  
__This is not a home  
__I think I'm better off alone  
__You always disappear  
__Even when you're here  
__This is not my home  
__I think I'm better off alone  
__Home, home, this house is not a  
__Home, home, this house is not a_

"Why are you calling me?"

He sounds angry but there's something else.

Ah, shit, I need a hit so bad.

"I miss you?"

Fuck, my head hurts.

"I'm sure."

Tired, he sounds tired. I remember that tone.

"Ky-"

"No, no, no. Shut up. I really don't want to talk to you."

What am I doing again?

"Please come back. I need you. I- I love you."

Ha, he's never resisted that one.

"I love you too."

Here it comes, he'll come crawling back.

"But I can't do that again. Bye Stan."

And the line goes dead.

Well, shit.

_Home, home, this house is not a  
__Home, home, this house is not a home_

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I have no idea what I just wrote, by the way.

I just know it was OOC and stupid.

I'll write better things when I don't feel like drugging myself into a coma.

:D

I'm not to fond of this. D:

Lyrics (c) Three Days Grace

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